Page 123 of Scandal Queen

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

The King Mother, already dressed in a beautiful silk dress of deep midnight blue, knelt in front of me and from the outside of the buzzing in my ears I heard an emergency champagne cork launch towards the ceiling.

“Leia. Once you get down there it will be easy, I promise.”

I shook my head. She didn’t understand.

“Can you imagine a life where Oliver isn’t your husband?”

I gave another shake of my head.

“Then you’ve got to get through the day. Try to enjoy it. It’s a celebration of your love, one the whole country can take part in.”

I nodded, my tongue still sticking to the roof of my mouth. “But everyone will be watching.”

Margi laughed. “Leia, they’ve been watching you for a year, today is no different.”

My phone vibrated again, and I glanced down.

Are you alive?

I smiled, although my lips felt all funny. Oh God, I’d be the royal bride to grimace through her photos.

Just. I texted back.

Thank God. I was about to ask them to close the borders in case you’d done a runner.

I chuckled, a wave of emotion rising inside me.

Still not running.

Look out of the window.

Smiling apologetically at the woman waiting to finish off my face, I got up from my chair and smoothed down the silk dressing gown that covered my underwear. I stepped up to the curtain and then angled myself behind it. There were cameras everywhere today, official and not so official. I no longer cared about that. Private, not secret had become the new royal motto and it worked for us. We gave the press most of the things we did, and they in courtesy didn’t chase for wild smoke stories. A compromise had been reached.

I peeked out from behind the curtain and gasped as Oliver stepped out onto the pathway directly under the window. I hadn’t seen him since the morning before last and I ached for him. For his laugh, his touch, the passing kiss he would plant on my neck as we’d go about cooking breakfast together, or in the evening when he’d sit down on the sofa and pass me a glass of wine, picking my feet up and rubbing the soles of my feet while he read through paperwork and all sorts of things a King had to do.

I ached for him in my soul.

He grinned up at the window, spectacular in a morning suit with long black tails and a vibrant purple waistcoat. In his hands he held some white pieces of what looked like paper. I squinted at them as he pointed between his chest and then to me up at the window.

Holding up the first one he waited for me to read. I. Second one. Love. Next. You. I struggled to breathe. My Queen.

I placed my hand against the window as we stared at one another.

Tradition be damned.

“Wait,” I called, holding up my finger, his eyes widened, and he flashed me that smile that made my knees weak.

I turned back to the room where all my friends and the people helping me get ready for the day waited. “I won’t be a moment.”

“Leia Lawrence, stop right there.” Nana buzz-killed my excitement. “You are getting married in one hour, you can wait that long.”

I grimaced, pulling my bottom lip in between my teeth. I thought about it for half a second. “Sorry, can’t.”

Clutching my robe tight around me, I ran for the door, picking up the small bag that Molly would carry for me throughout the day.

“Leia! Your face!”